Solomon Fox
Myth Weavers Sheet Session & Transaction Logs "I ain't no hero. Hell, I ain't even a good man. Don't mean I can't try to make right in the world. Way I see it, the only way to make right... the only way to keep folk safe from the monsters of this world, is to work together under a common set of rules. I seen what happens when the so called free-folk of the highlands try to do their own thing. They get slaughtered. That's what happens." The grizzled story teller hawks and spits. "Nah. That ain't the way. The way to make right is to build up our cities and the commerce that links them. To sacrifice a bit of ourselves for the sake of a unifying principle. This is where I come in. You see, when all is well I'm just a simple merchant. But when folks start to misbehave... when they work to tear down our cities... when they disrupt our trade... that's when I get sent in to make things right. History Solomon was born in the highlands south of Haven to independent homesteaders who sought nothing more in life than to live free in the world, provide for their children, and raise them as good people. It was an idyllic life and as he grew older he was constantly drawn to his father's bow. Once he was strong enough to draw the string, he turned out to be a fair shot. It wasn't long before he was able to hunt, which for a time improved his families lot immensely. So much so in fact that there was plenty of excess meat and hide which could be sold to bring in far more coin than the family was used to. Solomon began regular trips to the towns between the highlands and Haven to sell off the excess. This was young Solomon's introduction to trade. Solomon's life was full. He'd hunt, trade, help however he could around the homestead, and every other waking moment he'd launch arrows at bales of hay. His practice crossed the blurry line between dedication and obsession. Life was good. At least, it was until that fateful day he returned from town. He heard the screams before he could see anything and ran for home. Bodies of yellowed bone moved with awkward alacrity as they swarmed over his families homestead. A pair of Orcs stood among them as kings might stand among their subjects. At their feet, the still body of his father. He heard a new scream and his attention was draw to a field where his mother held his sister with one arm while beating back the skeletons with what might have once been a broom handle. Rushing to the scene he knew he was too far and that only his bow could save them. Luckily, he thought, he was a good shot. Unluckily he realized, common arrows don't do much to skeletons. And so it was that Solomon watched as his mother and sister were torn apart as a result of his inability to protect them. Later, once he would stop blaming himself, he'd come to blame their independent lifestyle. For now though, he ran. The two Orcs and their minions were never found and with little in the way of options Solomon did what he could to find his place in the town he had fled to. He hunted, he sold what he could, and in a bitter numbness passed the days. Before too long though, he grew tired of the town and hired on as a caravan guard. Suddenly, the world became a larger place. Over the next few years he saw history repeat itself many times. Folk would try to live their own way, away from the safety of cities and away from the control of laws they didn't write. And those folk would die. One particularly long string of caravan journeys took him all the way to Osirian, where he learned of Abadar. Everything the god represented either fit with his current view of things, or struck him as the way things needed to be to keep people thriving in a dangerous world. And so for a time he stayed in Osirian, learning more about commerce in this trade hub and learning what it meant to be a holy warrior of Abadar. While he wasn't himself a Paladin of the order he never-the-less learned of, and swore to uphold the following creed. * I am a protector of the roadways and keep travelers from harm. No matter their destinations or goals, if they are peaceable and legitimate travelers who harm no others on the road, I will ensure that they pass safely. * Bandits are a plague. Under my will they come to justice. If they will not come willingly before the law, where they can protest for justice in the courts, they will come under the power of my bow. * Corruption in the courts is the greatest corruption of civilization. Without confidence in justice, citizens cannot believe in their countries, and civilization begins to disappear. I will root out corruption wherever I find it, and if a system is fundamentally flawed, I will work to aid citizens by reforming or replacing it. * I am an aid to the markets. I ensure equitable trade between merchants and citizens. Theft and deceit on either side are intolerable. * I make opportunities, and teach others to recognize them. When I aid others, I open the way for them, but will not carry them—they must take responsibility. His training at the Osirian Church of Abadar went further however, for more than bandits plagued the roads. He learned of many monsters. He learned of their strengths, their weaknesses, and anything else that could help him vanquish them. He became an inquisitor of the church and was given free reign to operate in a manner beyond what was acceptable for other holy warriors. He found his place in the world. Still, he longed for the greens and golden browns of his home. The church of Abadar had a presence in Haven but it was not yet as powerful as here in Osirian. So too was Haven a trade hub, though not yet as prosperous as Osirian was. It was the perfect place for him to open his own mercantile company and to work towards the goals set by his God, Abadar. Appearance Solomon's road weathered features give him the appearance of a man older than his thirty four years. His tall, athletic frame is well built and fit, though not as whipcord lean as it once was. His beard is bushy and full while his eyes seem to perpetually squint, as if under assault by a glaring sun. The inquisitor of Abadar carries himself with a sense purpose far beyond what is typically found in the people of Haven. He wears a grey hooded robe, edged in black trim with silver embroidery. When about town the garb is respectably clean though it is more common for it to be adorned with pack and straps and marred by dust and sweat of the road. At all times he carries with him his bow. Personality As with most folks, Solomon's personality is layered. On the surface he is gruff but fair and not unkind. Just below that gruff exterior is a man who enjoys the camaraderie of a good drink and the laughs or tears that tend to go along with it. These layers are the surface personality of Solomon Fox. Beneath that surface lies a conviction and drive uncommon among townsfolk or adventurers. These traits manifest both in his business pursuits and his adherence to his creed. Solomon's notion of wrong and right has more to do with chaos and law then it does with evil or good. His own actions can and will vary within that spectrum. Still, overt evil rarely falls in line with his goals and beliefs, even if they do promote the rule of law. Friends In general, any who fight for the rule of law and/or fight to keep routes of commerce clear of threat. This list will undoubtedly grow, and become more specific, as Solomon establishes himself in Haven. Enemies The only specific enemies Solomon has are the two Orcs who are responsible for the death of his family. Unfortunately he doesn't know anything about them other than what they look like so it is unlikely he will ever get the opportunity to bring them to justice. Bandits are a plague. Under my will they come to justice. If they will not come willingly before the law, where they can protest for justice in the courts, they will come under the power of my bow. Once upon a time Solomon considered all undead his enemy. He has however learned of some known as Caylixians that have some small hope of transcending their base nature. He will not attack these undead on site but still nurtures a distrust of them that must be overcome by deed, as no words alone will be sufficient. Other undead he still considers to be his enemy, though the existance of the Caylixians has opened his mind the potential for others to be something other than enemy. Orcs are similar to Caylixians in Solomon's eyes, though perhaps to a lesser degree. He still distrusts them until they prove themselves. Aspirations * Promote the will of Abadar, specifically by proactively engaging in the activities needed to live up to the creed he swore to. * Build his own trade empire through which he can gain enough political influence to guide as many cities as possible towards the rule of law and the suppression of corruption.